Birth of a Hero
by Jhomeboy
Summary: Heroes are made, not discovered.
1. And So It Begins

Disclaimer: I don't own Calvin and Hobbes…yet.

I realize that some of you might not like this. Let's get this straight: I myself believe that none of this will ever happen, even if aliens did threaten the earth. I just felt like writing this. No flames when we reach the Hobbes part, please. I would recommend skipping it if not for the fact that, when it hit's the next chapter, it is an important part of the story. Again, no flames for the Hobbes part. I FELT LIKE WRITING THIS!

* ** *

One might say it all began as two teenagers strolled down the street, not knowing, not caring, just being themselves. 

Calvin squeezed her hand just a little tighter, making her squeal lightly. Calvin tried not to giggle but ended up braying with laughter. This resulting in him squeezing her hand harder more, and Susie shrieked, all the while laughing. 

The two teens stopped only to wave to Will Allen, who rolled past with his mom in their new large, gas guzzling SUV. 

The night air felt good, breathing down their backs, chilling them in some places, hardening others (a/n just meant to be nipples, just meant to be nipples. God, you people have sick minds). The moon was pregnant tonight, but was wrapped in a cover of clouds, hiding her moonlight. Calvin cursed it silently, because without light he could not see Susie's scarlet face.

"Come on, run with me!" He said, glee in his voice. "Why?!" She asked, squealing with laughter. "Because it feels so good!" He replied, sprinting down the inclined sidewalk. Behind him, Susie followed, shrieking with delight. There was something about July air that just felt so jolly, like Christmas. It chilled to the bone, and made you feel better, made you feel _rejuvenated._

Calvin reached the bottom of the hill, Susie running shortly after. She laughed again and laced her fingers with Calvin's, and the two began to walk further into town. It was a beautiful night, and they were going to take advantage of the clean, July air which chilled and hardened beneath their clothes (still nipples).

Of course, in this clarity, it was easy for one to detect the smoke coming from Town Center. Too easy. 

"Oh my God, a building's on fire!" exclaimed Susie as she saw the smoke lacing into the sky. Calvin took her hand and sprinted down the street and toward the gathering mass of people

…who were running opposite that of Calvin and Susie. Something was wrong. This was more than just a building fire-

"Oh Lord!" whispered Susie as the cause revealed itself from behind the Waterford Tower. It looked obscene, out of place, conspicuous to the eye, but factoring in the large fire raging behind it, and the fleeing people in front of it, it almost fit in.

Calvin stared into the chrome plates of a largish robot.

"Hussein's finally done it! Good Lord Susie, run!" cried Calvin over the roar of the crowd which suddenly surged between them, ripping their arms away from each other.

Calvin scanned the heads, looking for his fifteen year old lover. He saw her bob up once over the river of heads, and began to wade his way toward her as a shrieking cry could be heard and suddenly the Waterford Tower simply vaporized, just vanished from view.

"Susie!" he cried over another high-whistle and the scream of the crowd as over a hundred souls cried out in pain, and were suddenly silenced (corny Star Wars joke).

The robot was a good forty feet tall, and was looked to be a near human shape, maybe a little short on the body, and an absent head, but other than that it was humanoid. Its arms ended in claws as long as Calvin was tall, each wrist ending with a different sort of odd weapon. This wasn't the work of the Iraqi leader at all. 

The robot's "head" was bubbled, more like it was run by a pilot than an AI program. Calvin pondered this, wondering who would be macabre enough to pilot such a machine.

Another whistle and a green light lanced into the crowd. Calvin watched in horror as several dozen people, caught in the blast, turned into living X-Ray's of themselves before their bones dematerialized. Calvin looked away quickly and fought for Susie.

The larger robot was bad enough, but soon smaller, sleeker robots, about twice as tall as Calvin, entered the scene. The faster runners of the crowd exiting Town Center were the first to die as the robots appeared from nowhere and began to sweep up the edges. Their weapons were not as elaborate as their forerunner, but they did look faster, being sleeker and thinner with a more aerodynamic shaping. 

The new robots blasted into the crowd, mowing down people left and right. 

Calvin reached Susie and laced her hands with his. "Whatever you do, don't let go! We got to make it out of here! We must take a back alley or something! Let's go!"

Calvin turned to run as the large robot sprayed fire into the crowd. The fire caught onto running humans, who became living candles. They danced as they seemed to melt before the robot, and soon became burning puddles of fluid. 

Calvin sprinted forward, but halted when he felt Susie ripped from his hands. He U-turned quickly and found her on the ground. He reached down to scoop her up when a smaller robot stood in his way.

"Out of the way, bitch, or I'll make sure they never find your remains." threatened Calvin, but decided he should retake his offer when he realized he and Susie were the only remaining living things in Town Center. Everyone else had been eliminated. Calvin swallowed hard as the robot scooped up Susie, whose leg had broken, and another hovered over to Calvin and escorted him forward.

The large robot bent down on its knees to face Calvin and Susie as they were deposited before it.

"Hmmm…" a cold voice rang from somewhere in it's interior.

"The male I like. His haunches are strong, which will make him a prized member in my slave camp. I want the boy."

Calvin squirmed as a robot grabbed him and escorted him to the edge of the ring the robots had silently made. 

"The girl, however, has weak upper body strength. She wouldn't last more than five years. Terminate her."

"Terminate her? Susie! _Susie!"_

Susie was drug into the center of the ring and four robots came forward. From their backs extended a thick fiber optic cable, making a snaking sound as it coiled onto the ground. Each one stuck one fiber into either one of her hands or feet. Susie cried in pain, and suddenly began to scream as she realized what was going on.

"_Calvin! **Calvin! Help me!"**_

"**_Susie!_**"

Calvin tried to squirm from the robots grasp, and managed to get his hands loose, but his feet had tangled on a corpse and Calvin came down on the pavement with a smack!

Susie breathed hard and started to foam as the robots started to rev up.

"_Suuu-usiie!"_

The robots tore off in different directions. Susie's exasperated, hitching chest was silenced as she suddenly had four of her five limbs ripped violently off. The large robot nodded with approval.

"_Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"_

* ** *

"Dammit, human, how many times must I tell you! Move!" Calvin recoiled as the steel mesh whip snapped around his waist, drawing a new belt of crimson fluid on his bare back. He cried out in pain, and collapsed. The small slave train carrying the large steel pole caught onto Calvin's attachment chain, and Calvin gasped as the slaves started to move on, dragging Calvin with him.

Calvin considered it, stopping right here, right now, letting the damned aliens kill him. He was near dead enough anyway. Having to work stripped from the waist up in the blazing hot sun with minimum food and water allowances, Calvin was ready to say screw it and end it all.

Calvin shifted uneasily under the pressure and he felt something in his pocket. It felt small, heart-shaped, golden, possibly containing the picture of his old lover. 

Lord how he missed Susie. He thought of her every night, wishing she would return with a solution, with a way to somehow shoo these aliens out the door. Calvin longed to set eyes on her again, but alas, she was gone, murdered. He had seen it all. Calvin shuddered and felt himself swarmed with energy, somehow. He stood back up and began to aid in the lifting of the pole into place.

Two years. It had been two long years under the rule of these aliens. Nobody had a name for them, and simply referred to them as "the aliens." If one were to name them, it would have CNN, but alas, along with the rest of New York, it was abruptly vaporized by one, short blast from somewhere in orbit.

He had missed his sixteenth and seventeenth birthday. He had missed on Christmas, and Thanksgiving, and Easter, and the Simpson's 414th Episode Bash, celebrating their fifteenth season. How he had gotten into Simspsons in the end, but Matt Groening was as dead as Democracy was.

Calvin stumbled to his feet and began to drag on. The guards were watching them, and lately they had had a short temper, of course, they always did. It was bad enough to be watched by the eyes of the aliens, but it was nearly disturbing how they never left their mech-suits, like the ones that had murdered Susie so long ago. 

Come to think of it, Calvin couldn't recall the last time he had actually seen an alien out of its mech-suit, no matter how large, like the guards or the one that had leveled his town that fateful night.

Speak of the devil, he thought, as one of the large mech-suits came strolling by. They knew something was up.

Calvin knew it too. None of the other slaves had told him, not even his friend, Jerad (a/n, hmmm, where did I get the name Jerad from?…for those of you who don't know, my real name is Jared…n/m) , and Jerad was one of the smartest slaves in the camp. He was the same age as Calvin, and looked almost a lot like him. Just as tall and had managed to build up an extra coat of muscle over the years of constructing odd mechanisms for the aliens. The only real difference was his blonde hair had been dyed, but two years of trudging in the hot sun had turned it a very whitish-gold.

But he knew. Maybe the slaves were getting ready to make a break for it. This slave camp outnumbered the guards at least four to one, but last night two large mech-suits from Bangor, just north of the camp, had entered the camp and didn't look like they weren't going to leave anytime soon. 

As if to drive the point to him, he heard a familiar voice roar over the camp. Jerad had dropped his pole and raised his arms. "Okay, now!" he cried. 

The slaves, all line up with their building materials, abruptly dropped them and turned toward the large doors, just big enough for the larger mech-suits.

The guards didn't hesitate in getting into the fight, but at last they realized that the slaves they had sent to recycle old mech-suits apparently knew how to use tools, for several guards pulled out several weapons that they had concealed in their underpants. The first guard, who had raised his arms and loaded their wrist-cannons, immediately took the force of an unattached plasma cannons. Calvin gasped as the guard shattered, simply shattered before him, and red fluid sprayed against the concrete as it clattered against the ground. The alien that had controlled this suit had obviously been killed.

The large mech-suits reared up to their full height and Calvin, who could still smell the burning flesh from two years before, watched in horror as the mech-suit fired its plasma cannons. With a shrill whistle, the green light lanced into the crowd of slaves. Several of the humans screamed in pain as they were skeletonized.

Jerad grunted and motioned to Calvin, who was still holding his pipe. Calvin might still be able to make it, Jerad knew, and if he had only kept his eyes on the suit he would have seen his doom in time.

Calvin cried out when he saw Jerad's skin melt away and then his bones crumble to dust.

The slaves ran blindly now that their leader, Jerad, had been erased from existence.

"Jerad…" whispered Calvin.

* ** * 

Calvin had met Jerad two months after Calvin had been committed to the slave camps. He had been aiding the rest of Camp A in construction of a rather large mechanism. One of the slaves had the gull to ask one of the aliens what this devise was for. 

"Torture." 

And with that, the slave was incinerated by the mech-suit.

Calvin and the other slaves had stopped for a moment to watch as the new wagon arrived with slaves. This time there weren't too many, only about twenty. Most would come to Camp A, because the week before half of the group decided that they could make it over the fence and make it in the country.

They had been wrong.

The slaves were unloaded and escorted to their camps. Calvin was surprised to find that only one was to be fitted in Camp A, Jerad.

At lunchtime, the slaves were escorted to their camps. Calvin made his way over to the new guy, who was also fifteen at the time. 

"So, you're the new guy, huh?" He asked, slumping into his poorly made seat. The aliens had been in a hurry for the slaves to start making their devices and adjusting the planet to their whims that they had spent almost no time at all in making their living quarters.

The food was actually good, Calvin could comment. The aliens had appointed one of the slaves to "permanent chef," and was placed right in front of an abandoned Village Market. He would usually heat up a dozen pizzas and some corn, or maybe would just pass around Lunchables, and when food ran low, a transport was sent out to wherever Village Markets Shipping building was. They could find it. Many slaves had been kept in their original positions, running the Hostess factory or in some cases kept a McDonald's open.

That day it was grilled cheese, which was pretty good. The chef, who was only twenty-eight, was a pretty good cook. Calvin had taken two that day, because he had had a pang in his side. Usually good cooked food was good to fix that.

"Yeah, I'm the new guy. What's it to you?" Definitely enmity in his voice. Calvin merely shrugged it off and persisted with his questions. 

"I don't know. Just thought you would want a welcoming committee." He looked up at Calvin, obviously pissed and worried. "Well, I don't alright?"

"You got a story too?" 

"We all have storied, don't we? Everyone of us was doing something when these guys showed up, and we've all lost somebody, haven't we?"

Calvin nodded, pawning at the ice cream cup that Carl, the chef, had set out with the sandwiches. 

"I know what you mean. The first person I lost was my girlfriend. Murdered right before my eyes, like when the Spanish would use to punish traitors and stuff. They would tie a rope to a persons arms, legs, and throat, then connect them to different horses. Would pull them right apart. They did the same to Susie. Then I came home to find my parents were still there…all over the place…"

Calvin didn't realize it, but his eyes were swelling with fat, pregnant tears. The newcomer had watched, his enmity boiling away, as he realized whoever this kid was, he still had feelings too.

"I lost my dad, he was the only parent I had. We had managed to make it into the woods, and we had some perishables with us; a tent, flint and stone, sleeping bags, canned goods, and his rifle with over a hundred rounds of ammunition, for hunting deer…or alien. We thought we would have made it, but then, two days ago, one of those big mech-suits came out into the clearing and lifted its wrist plasma blaster and simply wiped the camp off the face of the earth. My dad was in the tent at the time."

Mech-suit? Plasma blaster? This kid obviously knew what was going on. So far, in the two months of slave hood, he had never heard those words referred to the alien technology. When he thought of it, it did seem to be one large suit, as he had originally thought and feared, and it did make sense that it was a plasma blaster.

"I'm sorry to hear that." 

"I'm Jerad, by the way." He raised his hand to Calvin.

"I'm Calvin. Pleased to meet you."

* ** *

For the next two years, Calvin and Jerad had worked together in slave hood, talked together when they could, eagerly waited together for the aliens to pair them with some fifteen, then sixteen, then seventeen year old for the mating program (the aliens had finally realized that the humans weren't machines that could just be built, and were indeed limited).

* ** *

The rest of Camp A, the survivors (Calvin and four others) were escorted to the tents after the others had been swept from the edges from the miniature mech-suits. 

Calvin indeed felt liked crying. He had lost his second best friend ever. He had never felt so lone before, first after losing Hobbes, then Susie, and now Jerad. Was it too much for him to have friends?

Calvin sighed and collapsed on his bed, panting hard. It was still ten o' clock, but he already felt like wilting under the sun. One of the mech-suits strolled by, humming some tune that Calvin had certainly never heard before. Damned aliens, all cozy in the climated-controlled comfort of their mech-suits.

Although really it had been only fifteen minutes, Calvin was awakened from what felt like a three hour nap. He felt much better, rejuvenated again despite the absence of that cold July air he had felt once, and feared he would never feel again the same way. 

The mech-suit that had woken him up was crouching in the entryway of his tent. "New train of slaves coming in. Though you might want to meet your kind, before they decide they don't like it here…" and with that he cocked his plasma cannon.

Calvin gave him the finger after he had turned, and then got out of his bed and strolled back into the hot sun and toward the train.

It was moderately sized, about thirty members, mostly adults, stripped to the waist like Calvin, but he could see one or two kids his age.

Calvin waited awhile, watching who was sorted to which tent, and found, albeit happy and dismayed at the same time, a sixteen year old was to share tents with him.

Calvin waited, but his new roomie never showed, he returned to his tent to sleep.

About ten minutes later he was awakened by a voice. Calvin groaned and sat up to find his new roomate.

"Susie?"


	2. Return of a Friend

Disclaimer: I do not own Calvin and Hobbes. I do, however, own Nicole and the alien race which threatens Earth. I own the plot, in a manner of speaking. This story is what could be an alternate birth of Spaceman Spiff, as I should have said in the first chapter. Slightly AU, by the way. I'll try work in more original Calvin in.

No flames in this chapter, with Hobbes coming up.

And I can truthfully say, Elvenking and Tashlan, I only read the first installation of "A Week in the Lives of Calvin and Hobbes." After that I was caught up in "Then Fall Hobbes," so any resemblance is coincidence. And I read it today after getting your review, Elvenking…damn, Hobbes in a box. That was a coincidink today, I swear! May God strike me down dead if I'm not…HA!

* ** *

"Excuse me?"

Calvin shook his head as he realized that this wasn't Susie.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else. I guess you couldn't be. She was…murdered."

His new roomate frowned with sympathy. "I'm sorry to hear that."

She was tall, almost Calvin's height, and his brown-auburn hair cascaded almost over her shoulders, like Susie's had after she had let it grow. She was dressed properly, unlike the guys, who were stripped to the waist. She had an old Abercrombie and Fitch shirt, a little small after two years of use, but it matched her eyes. Her eyes might have once been two brilliant drops of blue as crisp as the sky, but several years of tedious slave work had dulled them into the color of faded denim. Susie's eyes had never been like that, but there was a look in those eyes, one that was bold and tenacious, just like Susie had been.

"Hi, I'm Nicole." Calvin almost didn't shake her hand, realizing that the past three friends, Hobbes, Susie, and Jerad, had all been lost, two of which murdered. 

"I'm…Calvin. It's nice to meet you, Nicole…?"

"Jonas. Nicole Jonas. And you are Calvin…?"

"Calvin-" before he could spill his last name, a mech-suit popped his head into the tent. "Camp A is needed in Zone H. The bulinium core spilled."

"Bulinium? Is that nuclear, per chance?" 

The mech-suit made an attempt to shrug. "Could be."

Calvin started to get angry. The aliens had the mech-suits! They seemed pretty protective! Why couldn't _they_ do the work?

"Alright, I'll get right on it." he said through clenched teeth. The suit nodded and strolled onto the next tent.

"Well, prepare your gloves for some potent clean-up duty." Nicole nodded and grabbed the paperthin gloves the aliens had "graciously" provided.

* ** *

Calvin and Nicole had finished an hour later than they would have if it had been, say, a water spill. They had taken great care of making sure that nothing was to touch them.

They returned to their tents, beaten, and collapsed onto their beds. Nicole had fallen almost right to sleep, Calvin noticed, but he remained awake, thinking. He did that a lot these days.

This couldn't keep up. He couldn't last the rest of his long life like this. He was supposed to be famous, legendary, he was supposed to be remembered for ages to come! Nobody remembers a slave. He was going to do things, go places, meet people. Of course, under alien rule, none of that mattered now. 

They had to have a weakness. Everything else has one. Calvin certainly did, and that had been Susie, Hobbes, and Jerad, and all had been hit. 

Calvin sighed as he was hit with a fierce wave of nostalgia. He was suddenly homesick, and missed deeply the old days, before he discovered life elsewhere. 

Calvin pulled out from under his bed his safe box, which was nothing more than an old Nike shoebox he had managed to steal from a store under two guards watchful eyes. He had made some excuse that he would be a better slave if he could get some better shoes. They had agreed and watched him like a hawk.

The shoes he wore now, in bed, and the box held all the things that meant something to him that he had pulled from the flaming wreckage of his house so long ago.

He remembered that night, finding his parents fluids and insides sprayed over the walls of the last room standing. He collapsed after he had nearly cried himself dry from the murder of Susie, and managed to find some more tears deep inside. The guards who had let him come to find his treasured items prodded him with their hands to get going. He cursed them, cursed them loudly, and shut up when one of them cocked their plasma cannon.

He had picked up his mother's wedding ring, and stowed it into his pocket. He had felt no obligation to keep the finger still attached to it. He had also found a crumpled picture of him and Susie, taken only a week before. That he placed close to his heart. 

Also among the wreckage he found something odd, something he had normally kept hidden deep under his bed when friends were over, and on his bed when they were gone. 

Under a scorched piece of refrigerator he had found Hobbes.

Now, he picked Hobbes up out of the box. He had been packed tightly so as to fit in, and had made a naturally bend forward, but Calvin smoothed him out.

This was not the Hobbes he had grown up with. His orange fur had fallen out as if he had had mange. His whiskers, plastic, had bent in odd positions, and his eyes were cut and scratched beads. Calvin felt a tear grow in his eyes.

Hobbes' glazed eyes stared into Calvin's, the eyes of a stuffed animal, not a hunter, not the Hobbes Calvin had once known.

"Oh Hobbes, you would have known what to do…"

"So do you."

Calvin blinked his eyes open and his tears back to find Hobbes was gone from his lap. The source of the voice, he found, was in the center of the tent. He brought his eyes up down onto the eyes of Hobbes.

This was the real Hobbes, the Hobbes whose fur was real, not manufactured, and would bound up and down with gravity as he pranced forward, or catapulted himself at Calvin, and his whiskers were long and straight and healthy whiskers, ones that a tiger could envy. And his eyes showed more emotion that Calvin could ever remember. 

"You do know Calvin. I wasn't always the one with the ideas. You know how you can do this, how to defeat the Furies."

"The Furies?" he asked, blinking back happy tears.

"You'll know what I mean later. Now, haven't you noticed, on the nights you just look up at the sky, you can see a small alien ship or two fly by?"

"Yes…"

"Haven't you noticed that there are more and more of them in this area lately, and sometimes in the west you can see some pretty bright lights that appear on a distant hill."

Calvin nodded. "As a matter of fact, I do."

Hobbes bent down and traced in the soft sand of the floor. Calvin watched, intrigued, as his childhood friend and hero began to trace out his idea on the sand.

It seemed to resemble some sort of small spacecraft, but had the shakiness of a child's drawing. It was small, about built for one person or alien, and was rounded like a saucer. The back was propped with two aerodynamic fins, and the cockpit was a single glass bubble. Inside he could see a small seat, a rather intricate control panel, and two oxygen tanks on the back of the seat.

"That looks familiar…"

"Good. It should. I tried to draw it well, tried to draw it just spiffy for you."

Spiffy

Spiffy

Spiff

Spiff!

Calvin was suddenly hit with a bolt of realization. Hobbes nodded as he saw Calvin's wave of knowingness. 

"Good. I need to go now, but I will be back,"

Calvin grinned. "Thanks buddy."

"You're welcome."

"Come back soon to help me, okay?-"

But when he looked down, all that was there was a stuffed animal on the ground. Calvin frowned and picked up the small stuffed animal, hugged it, and put him back in his safe box. 

Calvin went to bed that night believing it had indeed been in his head, and it all had been made up, save the plan. He would work it out in the morning, he decided, and before he went to bed, he would remark mentally he was sure that the drawing in the sand of a spaceship was indeed also a making of his own.

However, it was the childlike shakiness of the drawing that worried him through the night. 


	3. A Slave Escapes

Disclaimer: I own but Nicole and the aliens. Calvin and Hobbes and, very technically, the outcome of the plot all belong to Bill Watterson. Complain to him.

* ** *

"Alright Calvin, I know something is up."

Calvin's eyes traced bout the room in a sly yet conspicuous manner, as if done by Homer Simpson trying to hide his blunders on the workforce from his employer Mr. Burns.

"Nothing, Nicole. Just drop it."

Nicole frowned and bent over Calvin's bed. "Nothing eh? Is this nothing?" She reached into the dark void and pulled out a burlap sack that was stuffed with old food from lunches served over the past three weeks. 

"Oh, that…never mind, Nikki." Calvin started to leave the tent when Nicole blocked his exit. "Are you planning to run? Are you that stupid?" Calvin sneered slightly and made an attempt to push Nicole aside, albeit not meaning to, because deep inside he had feelings for her, he knew, but was surprised to find her grabbing his wrists and staring into his eyes.

"Calvin…"

He groaned. "Alright…can you keep a secret?" Nicole took a quick outside the tent, making sure that no mech-suits were strolling by, and then nodded.

* ** *

It had all started after Calvin's midnight visitation from Hobbes. Calvin had tried to form a plan in his head for the next two days and when he decided it was impossible to make an escape, thank o' ye gods of faith. 

Calvin was placed onto recycling duty, just in time for the annual mech-suit scrap too. As past skirmishes with the aliens had left them bitter toward Calvin, he was to work on this grueling task by himself.

The first day, under the guard of two mech-suits, Calvin took his first broken suit into the immense heap of broken metal and, with the appropriate tools, began to grind down instrument boards, metal, and weapons. As the pit was too big to contain the current suit, Calvin had to drag it toward the back of the pit, which was marked by the barrier wall of the camp. It was only three feet of steel, and, after making sure nobody was watching, Calvin began to dig. By the time he was done, it was big enough for Calvin to place his butt in tightly. Calvin took a sheet of metal and covered the hole as well as different odds and ends to make the sheet less conspicuous.

Over the next few weeks the hole got larger and larger and began to slope in an L to under the wall. By the second week Calvin could hide himself eight feet into the hole, which was just over the halfway limit of his proposed tunnel.

In addition to the hole, Calvin began to stock food for his big escape to the hill. It was roughly two and a half miles away, piece of cake, but several of the large mech-suits still patrolled the area, and Calvin would take it as slow as he needed to.

That was why, while grinding down the worn out suits, he would disassemble, say, the wrist plasma cannon into the barrel, firing compartments, and over three feet of brightly colored cable. He hid this and at times worked the weapon into a gun-like frame, the perfect weapon. A large fraction of the power of the plasma cannon the large mech-suits in the palm of your hand.

Now, in the third week, the hole was about fifteen minutes from its completion. Calvin was ready to make a break for it for the Hill, where Hobbes had told him to go. And by Lord he was going to make it, he knew. 

* ** *

Nicole nodded as Calvin closed his story. "So…your going to make it for that hill we can see at night? With the lights?" 

Calvin nodded, looking into Nicole's eyes. "You know…its only about two and a half miles to the hill…that food would be more than enough. And I've set aside three weapons: one for me and two for other people, but it looks like you're the only one so far. That is…if you want to help me."

Nicole's eyes fell to the floor, obviously thinking. Calvin nodded and began to collect his burlap sack. "You're leaving now?" Calvin nodded. "It's either now or never, Nicole. Will you help me?"

"…yes."

* ** *

"Will it be alright if Nicole helps me today, fellas?" The mech-suits stared at Calvin, who was balancing the upper torso of a worn out suit while Nicole supported at the bottom. The inside of the suit was hollowed out and the burlap sack was stashed inside.

"Alright, I suppose this once, 'earth boy.' Just make sure she does a good job." 

Calvin and Nicole brought the suit to the back of the pit and dumped it, taking the bag. Calvin strolled over to the deteriorated leg of a suit and pulled from it three guns he had constructed over the past weeks. They looked, truthfully, more like harmless paintball guns than lethal ray-guns, but the first alien to say otherwise was going to be scraping more than blue-yellow paint of his hood.

Calvin pushed the bag into the hole and crawled in, then allowed Nicole to follow. Following the L bend, Calvin went from vertical to horizontal for five feet, then arced up to half vertical again. Calvin took from the sack his spoon from lunch and began to pull away at dirt, just ripping the clods out along with small rocks and roots.

Fifteen minutes later, Calvin found sunlight again. "We're out Nikki!" he exclaimed, pushing himself onto the fresh grass, something they didn't have in the camp. How he had missed it so, and the trees that surrounded the camp were something of a comfort as well.

Nicole poked her head and looked up at the barrier. The guard tower was nowhere in visible sight, but still Calvin could see fear in her eyes. "No, this is as far as I go Calvin. I'm sorry, I just can't go." 

"B-but we have to! I know what I have to do, mostly, and I need your help!" Nicole shook her head. "I'm sorry Calvin. If you make it, we'll be appreciative, whatever it is your doing, here at camp. If you don't…well…"

Nicole leaned out of the hole and kissed Calvin softly on the cheek.

"Goodbye Calvin." and with that she disappeared underground.

* ** *

The first mile into the forest wasn't bad. Here and there he would find long ago blasted areas where the trees still smelt of burnt flesh. On several occasions he would find the bones of the victims of this area, and in one clearing where the evergreens were thick, the two-year silhouette of the victim was still outlined in the blackened needles. 

Of course, it didn't take the guards long to realize that Calvin had gone missing. He knew this as soon as he heard the first tree crash three hundred yards behind him. "Human! Come out with your limbs where we can see them!"

With that, Calvin was away.

* ** *

Calvin ran for a half mile before the mech-suits caught up with him. He never knew they were tailing him until a bright green flash and a whistle meant that they had fired their plasma cannon. A green lance of light flared past Calvin and seared a tree off of its base.

Calvin turned and ran harder. 

The mech-suits began to rain fire harder on Calvin. Thanks to the trees, Calvin, who should have been vaporized if this had been a clearing, remained running. He twisted and, with his homemade gun, pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Calvin cursed and threw the gun away and took out the second, hoping this was the working one and not the one he had left with Nicole. He twisted and pulled the trigger

…and the left arm of a mech-suit lopped off. The two guards looked at each other before a second hit knocked the suit out of the sky. The second suit hesitated long enough to get several blows to the chest.

Calvin turned and ran harder before replacement guards would arrive.

* ** *

Five minutes later, Calvin came to his destination. 

It was large, for the hill had once been a ski lodge, but the top half of the largest hill had been lopped off and leveled for the building that sat atop of it. It was a rectangular building, about eleven hundred feet by two hundred feet. Only two stories tall though, and before was lined a landing strip lined with bright lights, the ones that Calvin could see at night.

Inside that building was the answers he needed, the answers to freeing the human race again.

From behind him came a crashing noise. Calvin turned to find a mech-suit, plasma cannon raised. "Don't move human."


End file.
